Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

"All squadrons, listen up! All personnel, use small-caliber weapons and prepare to storm in."

The wheels slowly rolled over the uneven road, surrounded by rustling footsteps, and cold gun barrels were pointed at the dilapidated building not far away.

……

Gradually, they were only a few steps away from the building. The bitterness of the dust, the heat of the flames, and the nauseating stench of blood mingled together like several jars of spoiled condiments. No one would taste such a flavor that even rats would ignore when they might not even see the sunrise the next day.

"Team A is in position, all done."

"Team B is ready and complete."

"Team C, prepare to advance. Over."

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"Karl, lift the stretcher higher..."

In the pitch-black building, no one remained in this perilous place. Only a few people huddled around a stretcher, slowly descending to the ground floor.

If the separation of life and death is the most painful thing in life, then the last moments before that are probably the most agonizing.

Whether it was Carl and Bill, who were both able-bodied, or Tommy, who was limping, they all hoped that they could still smoke a cigarette at noon tomorrow.

But courage and hope always stand in stark contrast to reality, because this night may be the last night of their lives. They can leave nothing behind, take nothing with them, and change nothing.

All that lingers in my mind is despair, nothing but despair.

Pat lay dying on the swaying stretcher, unable to see anything around him except for the mottled ceiling.

With every breath, I could feel the excruciating pain in my lungs—my ribs had been broken by the collapsing wall.

Whether he has a tomorrow or not is no longer a question that he needs to consider.

For him, the latter seemed easier to accept: a painful, lingering existence versus a swift and decisive departure from this world.

……

"Sergeant...you should go quickly..." He coughed a few more times.

……

Jonathan, following behind the stretcher, was still quietly watching the movements of the group of men in black outside the window, seemingly too busy to say anything of concern.

How can I describe his thinking? He has his subordinates by his side, and one of them is seriously injured. You definitely have to be responsible for them.

But after all, the sergeant wasn't Captain America from fantasy; he was just an ordinary flesh and blood, and even as a veteran, he didn't want to simply vanish into thin air in a hail of bullets unless he really wanted to die.

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"Hurry up...don't dawdle..."

Jonathan called out softly ahead without turning his head, took a deep breath, and smacked his lips.

……

I stepped off the bottom step of the stairs.

"Hey!"

This impulsive shout startled him.

He turned his head, his eyes flashing with malice, and fixed his gaze on a group of people at the front of the line.

"Huh?..." Jonathan's expression instantly turned serious when he realized it was his men. "Didn't I tell you to go first?"

“Sergeant!” A soldier walked around the stretcher and stood in front of him. “Sergeant Frege sent us back.”

"Are you following my orders or that guy's nonsense?" Jonathan roared angrily at the soldiers. "Do you want to die?!"

"Listen to me, Sergeant, listen to me..." The soldier blinked rapidly, seemingly quite intimidated by his superior.

"They just discussed it with a few of us. Now you should sneak along this road." The soldier pointed to a dark road behind the building.

"There's a subway station around the corner. There are a few of Sergeant Frege's men there, along with all the wounded from our company, waiting for you. We mean you should go and rendezvous with them, then retreat along the subway line. The rest of us who are able-bodied will take the longer route and draw the enemy away!"

“This…” Karl looked at the soldier, then turned to look at the sergeant who was thinking with his eyes closed.

"Tommy, lead the way." Jonathan gently nudged Carl, but the swaying stretcher didn't move forward.

"You can't do this, boss!"

"Yes, let's all evacuate together!"

"What else do you want!" Jonathan roared. "If you really want to save a few more lives, how about we just leave Pat behind and all of us get out of here? Is that alright?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a barrage of gunfire erupted from behind Jonathan!

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"No time, sir! You'd better leave now!" The soldiers pushed and pulled Jonathan and his group out of the building.

"Prepare for battle!" The lead soldier turned his face back.

He was just about to reach for his spare magazine when a hand quietly patted him on the back a few times.

"Sergeant?" The soldier turned around and looked.

In the distance, a limping wounded soldier and a swaying stretcher were slowly disappearing into the darkness of the alley. The sergeant who should have been following behind them was standing in front of him.

The soldier bowed slightly, and the sergeant, who was holding several pieces of explosives, handed them to him.

"You definitely need it, right?"

The sergeant placed the cloth bag on the soldier's outstretched hands, then turned and walked away.

He seemed to sense something and stopped...

When he turned around, the soldier was still facing him as before.

……

"you!"

I couldn't see the expressions on each of their faces clearly, but I had a feeling...

Jonathan looked down at the ground, his right arm, which was gripping the submachine gun, hanging naturally at his sides. He licked his lips, slowly raised his left hand, and pressed the brim of his helmet down towards his brow.

"You..." This time, the sound was much softer than before.

"...Don't die out there..."

Before the soldiers could even shout a few words, the sergeant raised his rifle, turned abruptly, and ran away, disappearing into the dark alleyway...

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The sergeant clutched his rifle tightly to his chest and ran recklessly deeper into the area. The sound of his shoes scraping against the rocks, the wind whistling in his ears, and the even louder roar of gunfire behind him all seemed to vanish.

The road ahead seemed long, and he still had to run like a madman.

But gradually, he felt that the building behind him seemed to have become quieter...

However, in the blink of an eye, a violent explosion came from behind, like a volcanic eruption, and his helmet almost flew off his head, whether from the blast wave or the jolting of running.

He didn't have time to turn around, not even for a glance. All he did was straighten his helmet slightly.

His muscles were taut on his face, his eyebrows were twisted under his forehead, and his eyes were narrowing into slits, as if something was blurring his vision, making it difficult for him to see the road.

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"Boss! Over here!—"

After wandering among the rubble for an unknown amount of time, Jonathan finally heard a shout and stopped abruptly.

Then he realized that he wasn't stepping on uneven stones, but on a smooth road surface—he had actually run to the very center of a street.

Not far away, several soldiers were crowded on the stairs of a subway station, one of whom was waving his hand at him.

"Tommy!" Jonathan gasped as he strode toward them.

"Is everything okay?"

Standing atop the highest step, he looked around. Several soldiers, their bodies stained with blood, slumped against the walls on either side of the stairs, their eyelids barely open. At the bottom of the stairs, several familiar faces huddled around the only stretcher. Hearing his voice, they all turned their gaze to him.

"Everyone, get in..."

The previously calm crowd began struggling to their feet, or being pulled up or carried by others, their various chattering sounds filling the short staircase. Only Jonathan remained standing there, his face filled with sorrow as he looked back down the alley he had run from.

The distant, intermittent sounds of gunfire weighed heavily on his shoulders.

One by one, the men wearing green hats disappeared into the darkness of the subway station, leaving only one unfamiliar face standing before him, staring blankly at him.

"Let's go, sir. It's time to look after ourselves..."

Jonathan sighed deeply, raised the submachine gun with both hands, and waved one hand a few times with the back of his hand facing the soldier.

Step by step, the ground gradually rose to their necks. The sergeant suddenly stopped, raised his head, and looked in that direction…

With a rumbling sound, the familiar building in the distance collapsed like a felled tree. Bitter dust rose into the air, mingling with the darkness and staining the world in Jonathan's eyes with a thick, inky black.

Berlin seems to have returned to silence...

"Sir?" The soldier looked at him.

“Let’s go…” Jonathan’s words were chillingly cold.

The heavy footsteps and the weary figure disappeared at the subway entrance and into the mottled city.

……

On the other side of the street.

The black dust billowed like a herd of bison roaming the streets. The bitter air and the raging storm obscured everything. The men in black instinctively crouched down and used whatever they could to shield themselves.

No one knows how much time passed, but finally they felt they could stand up, and the group prepared to move back in the original direction.

"Don't chase them..."

Everyone turned around and saw the company commander brushing the dust off his clothes as he walked out from behind the assault gun.

"Those we can't catch, won't survive..."

"Everyone, come here!" He waved his hand and turned to walk towards the Hell Road to the side.

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"Another group of people will have to be buried..." Everyone gathered at the intersection, facing the street torn apart by gunfire.

Black and green corpses were scattered among the rubble, two assault guns lay askew in the middle of the road, one after the other, and in the far distance, the infantry fighting vehicle, wrecked beyond recognition by the explosion, was still emitting faint flames...

The pungent smell in the air was quite unpleasant, and everyone seemed to have no interest in staying any longer.

"Company commander!" a shout came from an assault gun. "Orders from command center!"

hiss--

"Command center calling Lancer Squadron! Report situation!"

"Report to command center!" The squadron leader jumped in and grabbed the walkie-talkie. "Target in area L7 has been cleared; we are preparing to move to area L6. Also, the Lockett squadron has suffered heavy casualties here; please send more personnel to assist!"

"Command center received. Now, prepare for the defense of area L7. Logistics personnel are on their way. Over!"

"Understood!" After saying that, he put the walkie-talkie back and climbed out of the cabin.

"Everyone!" he shouted. "Prepare the defenses! Wait for the medical personnel to arrive!"

"Uh, we're not a logistics unit, are we?"